like a drug
by dreamerdreaming
Summary: freddie is left a letter that opens old wounds and forces him to face a past he's long ignored. involves SEDDIE friendship and dark themes
1. Chapter 1

**Unwanted gifts**

"It's open!"

Freddie looked up from the fanfiction page he was reading and his laptop, recognising his mothers long drawn out knock. Mrs. Benson slid into the room and stood half inside and half hidden by the door. She faced the floor, but Freddie couldff see her sore, red eyes and noticed her shaking hand and how it wouldn't leave her mouth. He opened his mouth to say something...

"-Freddie, dear" her voice trembled "I'm... I have some bad news"

He didn't say anything, but automatically he was on his feet, his arms reaching out for her.

"Your Aunt Jenn..." she choked on a sob and wouldn't look him in the eyes, "Your Aunt Jennifer..." and Freddie didn't need to hear those fatal words.

He wrapped his arms around her. "It's Okay Mom. You..." and his own voice trembled, "...I understand."

Then the tears came. As if from nowhere they came like the slow drip, drip, dripping of a faulty tap, from his chin and onto the creamy fabric of his mothers cardigan. Freddie closed his eyes and let the familiar mint odour of her shampoo take over his senses, grabbing at any kind of distraction he could. He tried to keep his mind unfocused. When he was younger he used to over sleep and then dehydrate himself for a similar effect. It was almost as effective as a drug. But he couldn't block out the sound of his mother as she sobbed into his shoulder, and the damp cold where her tears had spread out across the Icarly T-shirt he was wearing. It was Carly's 'second anniversary of their friendship' present and he'd vowed to treasure it for life. At least she needn't worry that he'd sell it like Sam had hers. Although he feared Sam would steal it one day and frame him somehow. Her jealousy often knew no bounds.

"Freddie" Mrs Benson muffled, inhaling deeply.

She pushed him back, to face her.

"Freddie", she repeated, "Why would she do it?" her throat made her voice jagged and hoarse.

Freddie's eyebrows crumpled with confusion, and there was a hint of suspicion in his shiny brown eyes.

"Do what?" he asked as he rubbed away the remaining moisture that stained his cheeks.

"She... she killed herself"

"What?" Freddie could hardly believe it.

Aunt Jennifer would never do something like this. At least to Freddie, she never seemed the least bit suicidal. She never seemed to let anything affect her emotionally. Freddie remembered how she'd shown such little care or attention when he was growing up in his old New York apartment, when she stayed to help look after him after his father had died. He recalled how he'd fall, or get hurt, or come home from school crying because he'd been told he was an ugly freak with a crazy Mom, and that his Dad was a loser and sometimes Aunt Jennifer even agreed with the other kids at school. When Freddie told Mrs. Benson, she'd say she was only joking around with Freddie, apologise and then claim he was overreacting. Eventually Freddie gave up even expressing how much it hurt for an adult to treat him like all the children at school. It probably explained why he put up with doing Icarly with Sam around. No, he wasn't very fond of Aunt Jennifer, but he couldn't imagine this is something she would do.

He didn't even know why her death was affecting him so much. She was a mean and inconsiderate woman, but maybe it was because he knew how close his Mom and Aunt Jennifer were when they were younger. It was one of Mrs. Benson's favourite pastimes to reminisce about the long adventure-filled days they'd spend together during Summers, before she married Aunt Jennifer's big brother and Freddie's late father, Peter, and before the accident happened and changed everything for six year old Freddie and turned Mrs. Benson into the often emotionally unstable, over-protective woman she'd been the last nine years.

"She left a note for Uncle Terry and mailed one to Amanda..." Mrs Benson had finally stopped sobbing, and was now sniffing and wiping at her eyes with a tissue, "There's one for us",

And it seemed like something that would be said at Christmas when everyone was opening presents, but there was no joy or excitement involved in this gift. Freddie's eyes suddenly looked very intense and distracted and his heart was thumping really hard against his chest.

_"No one has to ever know"_

He blinked away the voices of the past. "Have you read it?"

Mrs. Benson put her hand to Freddie's forehead. "No", and she turned and walked towards his bathroom. "You're sweating... you feel hot"

"Mom, I'm fine – I'm just... we're both upset." But he knew she would never listen, even at a time like this. She returned to find Freddie leaning against his bedroom door, chewing on his fingers.

"How many times have I told you to stop chewing on those fingers!" Her voice picked up pitch as she reached him. "You'll get an infection", and she put a cold wet rag to his face. "Now lie down and I'll make you some hot cocoa", and he loved her despite her spouts of temporary insanity. She didn't realise how much embarrassment and shame she laid on him, but she didn't realise how much he appreciated and loved her despite all of it either.

"Okay" he sighed and she had placed his laptop on his desk and straightened his bed out before he'd even spoken again. "Thanks" and he forced a smile, despite the current circumstance, "Mom? Do... you want to do the 'I love Lucy' Jigsaw later?"

She sniffed again and looked at him longingly. "What would I do without my Freddie?"

And in a moment she was gone and soon after the kettle began to boil and Freddie was left with his own thoughts again. It made him uncomfortable. Where was the suicide letter, and what could it possibly say?


	2. Chapter 2

**red hot**

Freddie looked back at his reflection and inspected his eyes. There didn't seem to be any evidence that he'd been crying, but it was obvious he hadn't slept well. The mirror was a sky blue colour. Freddie remembered painting the edges with his Mom one year. It was a long time ago and the corners were now worn down and white. He sighed, and reached for the door knob.

"Freddie!" Mrs. Benson shouted from the other side of the apartment, "Where are you going?"

"Mom, I told you I've still got to do iCarly!" he shouted back, but by the time she came to reply, Mrs. Benson was only a few feet away from him.

"But you're grieving", and she reached out, cupping his face in her hands, "they never think about your needs." She let her arms flop to her sides, and then gripped Freddie's arm with one hand gently.

It always made him feel guilty the way she talked about his friends and when she went on one of her insane rants about how they weren't good enough and he never told her about any of the mean things Sam did to him, because he knew she wouldn't keep her mouth shut. He still had to put up with them glaring at him like he went home every night and told her every little horrific thing they did. He never told anyone, even if he felt like he'd explode. He'd rather take it out on himself than have them see him so weak and out of control... but he felt such shame when it came to the whole self-harming issue that he's always let the emotions build up until he had no other choice and afterwards he barely remembered what he'd done. He just felt the sores and aches. It was like they were all in it together, just pushing him into a tiny room and cutting off the air supply.

Mrs. Benson noticed that Freddie was trembling. "Freddie?"

He closed his eyes. He was almost out. He just needed to hold everything together. He exhaled, and let his face relax. He opened his eyes and looked straight into his mothers.

"I've got you to do that for me Mom..." he said, and her face relaxed too, "and I need to get out of my room... I've been in there all weekend... it's the Summer, and I want to do this"

Mrs. Benson rolled her eyes and gave in, letting go of Freddie's arm. She could be so suffocating at times, it was unreal.

Freddie closed his frontdoor, and turned to face the Shay apartment.

"Fred-weird!" came the annoyingly superior voice he knew all too well, "Where've you been all weekend?"

Freddie opened his mouth, but Sam put one finger up to his lips before he could even make a sound.

"Actually, I don't know why I asked" Freddie rolled his eyes as Sam continued, her face lighting up, "Nevel was holding the A.V.U.D. weekend." She poked at Freddie causing him to squirm, and attempt to push her away. "Nevel hosts the Audio Video Ultimate Division?"

"Woah that exist?" She looked fascinated for a moment, "No freak, I mean the Annual Vote for the Ugliest Dork weekend!"

He wasn't in the mood and turned back to the Shay apartment door.

She poked at him again, "Aw, Come on! Show me your trophy..."

Freddie spoke through gritted teeth, "we start iCarly in less than ten minutes" and he shook his head as Sam picked the lock on the Shay apartment door. "Ya know you could just try knocking once in a while."

"Meh. It takes actual energy" Sam mumbled.

"Sam, you use more muscles twisting that thing around", and of course she turns back to him, that look in her eyes.

"Fist, face, me, laughing!"

He flinched, closing his eyes instinctively as she lunged, but nothing happened. Two seconds later he hears Sam laughing. "I'll get you after you've worked your iCarly magic". By the time he opened his eyes, the door was now open and Carly stood there, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"I'm sorry about your Aunt Freddie" she spoke softly, as if he might break if she raised her voice even a little.

Freddie returned her smile with another forced one and entered the apartment.

"What? What about his Aunt?" Sam added as she made her way to the kitchen.

Freddie started for the stairs as soon as he could. "Can we just get on with iCarly. I don't much feel like talking". Sam looked at Carly, who looked around awkwardly and then back to Freddie, and for once she didn't ridicule his words.

"I'm sorry Freddie", and she grabbed a carton of milk and some left over ribs from the fridge. "Lets get this show on the road!"

"That's not even in the right context." Carly pointed out.

"Do I correct your grammar?"

"This isn't about grammar!"

"Meh. Rib?"

"Oh! Fine!" And Carly took a rib as they made their way upstairs.

* * *

"Okay you lovely people you!" Carly shouted pulling faces at the camera. "It's time for your most favourite part of the show—"

"—And mine!" Sam interrupted.

"Yes and Sam's! Our most favourite part of the show—"

"—Random Dancing!" Sam screamed and she knelt and acted out her token score gesture with her arm and fist pulling back. "Yeah!"

Sam pressed the controller and Freddie pressed a few keys on his pear laptop and a moment later the disco lights and music turned the room into a dizzying blast of colour and vibrations. The girls began dancing madly to the music, and for a few seconds Freddie's face lit up with amusement.

Then as he watched them closely, his eyes darting from Carly to Sam he felt more and more troubled. He couldn't shake the hollow, yet painful stab in his chest that told him all was not right in the world. He'd thought being around Carly would cheer him up, but instead he'd started questioning everything. He saw her in a different light, as the young naive girl that she was, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it, because he'd always wondered what she was thinking or going to do next, and now he realised those thoughts didn't excite him anymore. Then he thought about how she was the only person besides Spencer who treated him with dignity and respect and he felt shame at thinking badly of her, but since he'd saved her life, she'd treated him differently, and he thought about why he had to save someone else's life just for them to notice that he longed to be saved, or atleast for them to notice he wasn't alright.

And as Carly and Sam danced manically, their arms flailing around, that is exactly what Freddie Benson was thinking. When they'd finished and the lights returned, they couldn't understand the troubled and annoyed expression on his face.

"And were done" he said monotonously, turning off his camera and closing his laptop.

"Hey... You alright?" Carly asked.

Freddie shook his head. "No, I'm not", and he hadn't meant for it to come out so mean, so... agressive, but he couldn't help it.

"Freddie?" She looked hurt, "Is it your Aunt Jennifer?"

Freddie shot her a look and she felt an icy coldness she had never seen in shy, thoughtful Freddie before.

He realised his mistake. "I'm sorry" he sighed, "I just... didn't sleep well"

He grabbed his laptop, leaving the camera in its usual place. Both Sam and Carly were looking at each other now, and Freddie could tell Carly was signalling with her eyes that Sam stay quiet. It happened a lot.

"I'm going to just... go home"

He'd wanted to spend some time away from his mother and his bedroom, but now he couldn't stand the awkward silence, and worse still, he'd created it. He suddenly felt a wave of hatred that he was all to used to and it was directed at himself. Carly had approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped.

"Freddie?" her voice was dripping with concern, "Are you sure there's nothing..." and she trailed off at first, "...you want to... tell us?"

He covered his face. The tears were beginning to sting his eyes again, but he couldn't cry in front of them, especially Sam. His thought process signalled Sam would ridicule him and most likely never let it go and Carly would lose what little respect she had for him. He turned from them, and ran down the stairs, hiding his face from the both of them. By the time he made it into the hallway he was crying so hard his head was throbbing and the lump in his throat made it hard to even breathe. He ran down to the boiler room where he'd once paid $100 a month. It was locked, but it was somewhere no one would probably find him before he could recover. He let his back rest against the door as he slid to the ground and cried. Part of him didn't even know why he was crying, and the part that did felt the red hot shame of every tear drop.


End file.
